After Midnight (a.i.)

32

Ashton's POV

My body bounces on my stool with every beat, each threatening to push me over to the floor below my scuffed boots. I was on autopilot, struggling to keep myself together while rattling off the rhythm for the current song the boys were on. I zoned it out. I couldn't tell what chorus Luke was singing, but I subconsciously knew the beat I had to keep up with.

I toss my head back in a daze, a feeble attempt to wake up my brain that wasn't in the mood to focus. I could feel each blood vessel in my arms with every pound on the drums, the sharp noise stinging my sensitive ears. It was odd, being completely dialed up yet helplessly numb simultaneously. I guess the legend was true. My tolerance has been fucked.

After the next few songs, my body was begging for a remedy. Anything to itch the painful scratch that pricked down the stretch of my sweaty back and tickled my bones. Anything to help the aching pressure in my head that flooded into my sinking chest. Anything for some fucking relief.

Obviously having nothing in my system for a bit took it's toll on me, and something I've learned about withdrawal throughout the years is that it is nothing but persistent. She is a cruel mistress that haunts my life, beckoning me with her seductive persuasion. Nothing on earth is more painfully pretty than her.  The paradox she is.

The past few days have been insufferable. I thought I had it under control, with my shaking limbs and constant cold sweats, feeling like my stomach was harrowingly empty it wanted to swallow me whole. But that's what I'm realizing about control; I've never had it to begin with. And with the snap of her wishful fingers, I've given in to the temptation. I've fallen under her spell yet again, and was left in the dark with nothing to lose.

What's one more time off the wagon, anyway?

I've never been a fan of sobriety. I didn't like that I had to control the only thing I couldn't. I couldn't indulge in whatever I pleased, couldn't do whatever I wanted to. I never gave a shit about my well being before, why start now?  Why stay awake at night trembling in pain while my stomach rips itself apart just trying to fight off the mistress from sucking the fucking life out of me. I don't need any added misery to my life. Instead, I wanted an antidote. And that's exactly what I found.

I'm not sure what it really was, but the dude out front seemed to be having the time of his life so I couldn't pass that up. Twenty bucks and a couple of drinks later, I was starting to feel okay. Feel normal. Well, as normal as I've felt these past few years. I knew I had to keep it to myself, with Nova breathing down my neck and the boys' odd contentment over the past week or so. I couldn't ruin that, but I didn't need them worrying about me either. I knew what I was doing. This wasn't my first rodeo, I've done this dance before. I had it under control.

Until I didn't, and I realized I was fighting from falling asleep on stage in front of hundreds of people. Including Cara who was too busy to watch, but had a concerned eyebrow raised at my behavior. I could play it off easily; it's too hot up here, I'm dehydrated, had too much to drink, yada yada yada. She wouldn't be tough to fool. I just didn't need her seeing me like this. Especially since I'm almost positive this is a downer and I didn't have anything to reverse it. Booze wasn't helping, it was just pissing on the already dead fire that was withering away in my chest.  I needed something to balance the downer. I needed something and I needed it now.

"And all the things that we dream about, they don't mean what they did before." Luke's voice is strained in my ears as he belts out. My chest heaves as I try to get my heart rate up, hoping it'll give me a small boost of energy to keep me going until I get back to the house. To the remedy.

"I just wanna get back to us 'cause we used to have more." My sticks absently crash down to the drums in an instant, keeping the heavy beat to the song. I spot Cara behind the bar, it's enough to keep my heart racing.